Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
Intro: Never Mind
It happens like this:
The resounding beat cuts out, giving way to overwhelming cheers from the crowd, and Yoongi rushes backstage, fingers hurriedly muting his mic and pulling out his in-ear monitor. Yoongi is panting roughly - a product of having danced and sung simultaneously until a few moments ago - and he accepts the hugs and affectionate pats that Hoseok and Namjoon dole out, having waited just behind the stage to watch his set.
Then, out of nowhere, there’s Seokjin.
Seokjin isn’t supposed to be here - the three of them know that. Epiphany was slated to be performed right after Trivia: Seesaw - that’s the set list; that’s what it’s been like throughout the tour - and he shouldn’t be here at all. But before Namjoon or Hoseok can point this fact out, Yoongi automatically staggers to Seokjin, dropping his forehead to rest on Seokjin’s shoulder.
“The fuck?” Hoseok mutters just as Seokjin catches Yoongi easily, hooking an elbow around Yoongi’s bowed neck and pulling him close. He doesn’t even protest about the sweat and makeup which was probably getting on his pristine white jacket. He makes to lead Yoongi back to the staff - because they’re still hanging around in the shadowed area between the stage and the backstage - but then Yoongi wiggles out of the hold and beams up at Seokjin.
“Thank you,” he starts, and Seokjin’s face gets all fond and soft, “Hyung, I-”
And that’s all he gets out before Seokjin kisses him.
There’s enough plausible deniability especially in the terrible lighting - anyone could mistake it as the silhouette of an awkward hug in progress, what with Seokjin's right arm slung around Yoongi's neck, the other wrapped around Yoongi's upper back and his face angled just so it looks like they're cheek to cheek instead of face to face - but Namjoon and Hoseok flatly gape as Seokjin presses his lips against Yoongi’s for about two seconds - too short to really be anything, but long enough to leave an impression - before drawing back and grabbing onto Yoongi’s cheeks with both hands.
“You did so well, Yoongi-yah… you’ve worked so hard!” he shouts over the din, face all serious and earnest before it melts into a brief smile and he ruffles Yoongi’s hair like he’s petting a dog, “I’ll be back soon, hm?”
Seokjin sweeps off then, leaving the three in total shock (Yoongi) and disarray (Hoseok and Namjoon). It’s a testament to how fast things have gone to shit that the staff only come around to hound Yoongi after Seokjin has slipped past the curtain to apologise to the backstage staff and onto the stage proper. Namjoon takes control of the situation, drawing attention away from Hoseok’s pinched expression and Yoongi’s thousand-yard stare, and he cryptically says, “After the show, okay?”
Hoseok and Yoongi grunt in unison.
(Of course, what all three of them fail to account for is that this happened to be their last leg of the tour, their encore concert at that, and that Seokjin’s mother literally whisks him away right after Jimin’s snapped a selca of them for Twitter, leaving the man with just enough time to squish Jimin’s cheeks and sling each arm over Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s shoulders to bonk their heads together, before he’s dragged off. They’re literally about to start eating, but that doesn’t matter because she’s carrying dosirak for them and Seokjin doesn’t even look surprised; it’s like he knew this was going to happen.
I'll drop him off in two weeks, his mother informs the room at large and vanishes out of the door with her son.
“This cannot be happening,” Hoseok groans and Yoongi just attempts to further sink into the floor space he’s currently occupying.)
Seokjin listens to his mother all indulgent as she outlines the itinerary she had drawn up possibly months ago - clearly she was craving some quality time and being the consummate mama's boy, Seokjin looked forward to the mother-son bonding session - and Seokjung and his fiancée, Ahreum, look on amusedly. Their father would be joining them in two days, following which they’d fly to France for their long overdue collective family vacation, and Seokjin’s more than happy to entertain her till then.
There's the usual suspects - shopping at Hong Kong's Central district and at Causeway Bay and lunch at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon and the inevitable dinner at Myung Ga because it's been less than two days and Seokjin already misses homely food - but also a good chunk of sightseeing.
"And the Dragon's Back Hike, Seokjin-ah," his mother gestures with a wave of her wine glass, "I packed my shoes for that."
"Eomma , I thought this trip was for us to relax-" Seokjung tries but their mother just handwaves him away.
“Well, I am relaxing,” she replies loftily and Ahreum just laughs.
Still, Seokjin pulls his mother away after they’re done taking their early dinner, deciding to take her on that river cruise to see the Hong Kong skyline. No reason not to start the quality time now.
The ride to Victoria Harbour and their subsequent leisurely boat cruise is lively, with his mother chattering a mile a minute and catching him up to all the family gossip he’s been missing out on while he’s been touring the world with his other family - and as cheesy as the thought is, Seokjin wouldn’t take it back for anything. As much as he's missed his family, he'll inevitably call one of the boys and get updates because the group chat has been lacking, probably lose his temper at least once because the dorm kitchen has definitely caught fire at least once - because Seokjin is taking a longer vacation than the rest and they’d all be home and back sooner than him - and then he'd just ask for Yoongi, because Yoongi, despite being the second eldest, was somehow the most obedient dongsaeng.
Yoongi. Seokjin probably makes a fond face for his mother latches onto it like a leech.
“Seokjin-ah,” she starts in this particular tone, one which used to harken the start of probing questions about dating, despite Seokjung extensively explaining to her the concept of an idol. Not that his mother cared and neither did she think Seokjin capable of following the rules.
(And she won’t be wrong at all.)
“Eomma,” Seokjin says right back, but fluttering his ample lashes at her instead. It does the trick and she laughs, lightly nudging his shoulder in response.
“How is Yoongi doing?” she asks pointedly, something knowing in her voice.
“You literally saw them at the concert and after yesterday. Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Seokjin replies without missing a beat, because apparently his mother and Yoongi traded messages on KakaoTalk. Yoongi was awfully popular amongst the older set, but Seokjin didn’t dare say it to his mother’s face.
“But I’m asking you,” she tosses back, taking a sip from her glass of wine. “You’re going to have to start being more honest with me, really.”
And that’s when Seokjin looks away and into the eye-catchingly neon skyline because really.
Seokjin never withheld his appreciation for men although he was fairly discreet about it (less so with Jimin in the picture, but Jimin was a horrible enabler for everyone’s bad habits). At least he thought he was fairly discreet, but then there was Seokjung calling him at 1am, practically in tears from laughing, and the only sentence he managed to choke out was, “You wrote him a letter in Japanese???”
And then there were his parents - Seokjin thought that they might not take it well, but Seokjung had apparently primed them to expect literally anyone, boy or girl. Hell, his mother gave him a curious look the first time he took all the boys to meet his parents and then promptly began sweetly talking to Yoongi in particular.
His mother and he had similar taste, it seemed.
"He's fine," Seokjin informs her after a significant pause.
"Just fine?" his mother teases and, God forbid, Seokjin actually feels shy.
"He was good yesterday," he elaborates regardless, the tips of his ears burning, "In top form. You saw him onstage; knocking everyone dead."
And he was. Seokjin has little memory of their concerts in general - the entire thing feels like a giant neon blur more often than not - but he distinctly remembers watching Yoongi from the sidelines, the man prowling like he owned the stage, outright glowing as he rapidly spit out verses. Completely in his element, even when he danced - danced - for the first of his solo performances.
"A dangerous man - Min Yoongi…" Seokjin concludes and the memory, weirdly, continues. There's Namjoon and Hoseok giving Seokjin concerned looks at his presence backstage once they realise he’s behind them, there’s Yoongi hurriedly jogging offstage.
Why was Seokjin there again? All he can really discern is that urge to watch Yoongi perform live and not through a screen and at the risk of being late for his set. It was perhaps one of the last times they would be performing for a long time, after all. It was important.
He remembers Yoongi staggering to him, remembers catching him easily. There was something intoxicating about Yoongi discarding his aggressive, dominant stage persona almost immediately once he saw Seokjin. He'd given him that wide smile, the one that made his gums show and his eyes curve up into crescents, utterly guileless, and sent Seokjin's poor heart into a tailspin. He looked so fucking pretty too - the oversized sweater almost slipping off of one shoulder, fluffy hair and the dainty diamond necklace - what the fuck was Seokjin supposed to do, honestly?
He liked Yoongi so fucking much, it was embarrassing.
Yoongi had said something, words drowned out by the deafening crowd, but Seokjin still caught the Thanks and the Hyung. Yoongi was cute, so cute, and Seokjin, not for the first time, felt a distinct urge to kiss him.
Soft, his brain supplies automatically, Sticky from the lip gloss and salty from the sweat. Perfect.
Seokjin pauses. He continues receiving phantom sensations, things he should have no memory of - an up close shot of Yoongi's face, close enough that he can see the sharp, choppy strokes of the brow pencil, the faint smell of musky cologne which he'd gifted Yoongi at least four years ago, the press of a small mouth against his own - and fear blooms in Seokjin's chest.
No, no, no, no, no. There's no fucking way.
"Seokjin-ah?" his mother calls but Seokjin doesn't meet her eye.
Because there's no way he kissed Yoongi yesterday. There's no way because- because then it would mean Seokjin had fucked up everything. It would mean he'd committed career suicide, it would mean Namjoon's disappointment and Hoseok's rage, it would mean Jimin's tears and Taehyung and Jungkook might as well starve and give up at this point. And Yoongi? Seokjin had been mentally prepared for rejection, except it had been delegated to an unidentified date in the future, preferably after the dissolution of Bangtan Sonyeondan and just as his mother had begun waving glossy photographs of potential suitors in his face.
Not like this; not when Seokjin had prematurely lost his iron control in the face of one Min Yoongi being cute.
And, worse, had someone seen? Let alone the fans, had the staff seen him kiss Yoongi? Or was it just Hoseok and Namjoon? That last option isn't a comforting thought either and Seokjin pats his pockets for his phone to confirm the events proper.
"My… phone?" Seokjin questions, once he's done rummaging through all the pockets and coming up empty.
"You said you left it in your room," his mother supplies and Seokjin has a vision of his phone, sitting plugged in on the side table. He hadn't even touched his phone after yesterday's concert, save for blindly shooting off a message to Sejin-hyung and a bleary selca to the group chat before collapsing in his hotel bed at 6am this morning. Not to mention, his mother had even confirmed with him if he had his phone, but Seokjin had waved it away citing that he'd rather spend time with her without distractions.
"Do you want mine?" his mother asks, looking mildly concerned, but Seokjin just pastes on a smile.
"Don't worry about that," he says and asks after cousin Yeri's wedding, sufficiently distracting her.
Unfortunately, Seokjin is distracted himself, a detached part of his brain conjuring up all the possibilities of just how devastating the aftermath of his follies looked like. He’s not one to stew in regret, but everything about the current situation is regrettable plus horribly embarrassing.
His mother, bless her, doesn’t prod him too much, preferring instead to carry on as usual.
After the sedate cruise has ended and they’ve returned to the hotel, Seokjin escorts his mother to her room, gallantly linking their arms together. He hasn’t been the best company, he realises, but his mother doesn’t care; she beams at him before he can turn to leave.
“I’m so happy that you’re here, Seokjin-ah,” she says and Seokjin doesn’t almost cry, not at all.
On his way to his room, Seokjin detours to Seokjung’s to wish him and Ahreum good night before turning in himself. Ahreum happily meets him at the door but then there’s Seokjung, looming behind his fiancée and looking awfully sketchy. He juts his chin towards the hallway behind Seokjin, the universal gesture for I need to talk, meet me outside. Seokjin sends him a questioning look and Seokjung steps out the door with a short smile for Ahreum, grabbing Seokjin’s wrist and pulling him aside, leaving him just enough time to wave at Ahreum as he goes.
The walk to Seokjin’s room is a bare fifteen metres, but it makes him uneasy nevertheless. Seokjung is strangely quiet and simply gestures at Seokjin’s door expressively once they reach there. Seokjin unlocks the door with a swipe of his keycard, the electronic beep sounding downright inviting after Seokjung’s weirdness.
“...what?” Seokjin eventually asks, once they’ve moved into the lounge area and Seokjung has seated himself on the leather couch. His brother doesn’t answer immediately and instead slowly draws his phone out of his pyjama pants like he’s unsheathing a weapon. He thumbs the screen, scrolling till he finds something and then turns the phone to show Seokjin. Seokjin leans down from where he’s standing to scrutinise the screen.
“You want to tell me why Namjoon-ah called me?” he says and Seokjin then notices that Namjoon had called Seokjung thrice, three times the normal amount.
“Oh,” Seokjin blinks.
“Oh,” Seokjung repeats, shoving his phone back in his pants, “Look, I wouldn’t say anything, but he sounded almost panicked? I asked if I could call eomma to get you on the line if it was urgent, but he just said that it was nothing and he’d call later.” He scoffs, “Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”
“Namjoon-ah is a shit liar,” Seokjin offers and Seokjung just shakes his head.
“So are you,” he says and Seokjin really, really hates that his brother can read him at all, “Did something happen?”
When Seokjin doesn’t respond, Seokjung just leans forward on the couch, craning his neck up to look at Seokjin’s face, “I’m not going to ask you to elaborate, Seokjin-ah. Considering that there’s nothing on the news and that your managers aren’t blowing up my phone, it’s probably not as bad as you think.”
"What do you know," Seokjin tosses back and Seokjung just grins.
"More than you," he replies, "I'm your hyung, idiot."
In a startling display of maturity, Seokjin sticks his tongue out at his brother and Seokjung manages to pull him into a headlock, mussing up his hair in the process. It speaks to his growth in strength for Seokjin manages to get out of that display of brotherly affection in less than ten seconds - Seokjung might be bigger than him, but he isn't a complete neanderthal like Jungkook.
"Call him back," Seokjung says, "And try not to ruin the vacation, eomma was really looking forward to quality time with the whole family."
Seokjin scoffs this time, "I won't."
Seokjung hums getting to his feet and patting Seokjin’s arm.
It's only once Seokjin has shepherded his sibling out the door, and locked it for good measure, that he turns an accusatory gaze at his phone. The notification light blinks mockingly and Seokjin decides to go through a change of clothes and his nightly skincare routine, gathering his nerves to see the inevitable damage his little stunt had wrought. He even pulls out the RJ plushie someone (most likely Jimin) had snuck into his carry-on, because there’s no one else who’d give him non-judgemental moral support in these trying times except for his alpaca son.
(Also Taehyung, but subjecting Taehyung to his problems meant exposing Jimin and Jungkook to them as well, so no thanks.)
Seokjin unplugs his phone and closes his eyes, counting to ten, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He unlocks his phone swiftly before being hit in the face with a barrage of notifications. 212 messages, 56 missed calls and at least 3 video messages on a rarely used private Twitter account which follows the private Twitter accounts of his fellow band members. How Seokjin had slept through all of this is swiftly explained by the icon indicating that he had put it on silent mode before collapsing into a deep sleep at 6am in the morning.
Suddenly, yesterday's exhaustion comes back to him twofold, despite him having slept for eight hours straight and then snuck in another two after he'd made himself presentable and taken a late lunch with Ahreum. There's dread - he's absolutely not prepared to read the inevitable verbal beatdown via KakaoTalk.
He braces himself - the list of missed calls is alarming, with twenty apiece from Namjoon and Hoseok, alongside a few sporadic ones from their other private numbers, those solely reserved for immediate family members and a handful of close friends. The messages are comparatively sedate - aside from the dorky memes from Jungkook and Taehyung and an extensively catalogued drive down to Busan from Jimin on their group chat and Sejin's singular thumbs-up emoji, the rest of the messages seem to originate from a new group chat created with only three members, including himself.
Seokjin scrolls through the texts, going from urgent to downright frantic as the day progresses, complete with an impressive bouquet of emojis, stickers and gifs. As he's reading, another message comes through, the notification blocking the top of the screen.
h🥺bi
hyung
When Seokjin doesn't immediately respond, Hoseok sends another message.
h🥺bi
your read receipts are on
i know you can see these
To say that the thought of Hoseok camping online to specifically catch Seokjin is mildly terrifying would be an understatement. He has absolutely no idea how to respond other than an emphatic What the fuck, but before he can transfigure that into more polite terms, Namjoon hurriedly types into the chat.
joonie
Jin-hyung
Fuck
Finally
Hoseokie, stop scaring him
Seokjin isn’t sure about the save, not with Hoseok’s rapid incoming messages, most of which are displeased pictures of Seokjin’s face - clearly the reaction images had been created by Jungkook, because Seokjin personally knows no one else who is as well-versed with Photoshop and is willing to put in that much time to selectively isolate screencaps of Seokjin’s least flattering moments. That or the graphic design department has been archiving these; Seokjin dearly hopes they haven’t, but he won’t put it past them.
jinjin
what are you two doing
what is this
Even as types it out he feels phenomenally stupid and at least ten kinds of a fool.
And before Seokjin can react or decide how he feels about this predictable turn of events, his phone suddenly buzzes, a picture of him clinging to Hoseok while the latter makes a thoroughly unimpressed face coming up on the screen. The seconds it takes for Seokjin to weigh his well-being and sanity against this awful situation of his own making feel like an eternity, and Seokjin steels himself before taking the call.
The videos load - and Seokjin is glad to see that the lighting in his room is flattering and his final slather of face cream makes him glow. Hoseok is wearing a beanie Jimin gifted him, complete with fuzzy teddy bear ears stuck to it, the wall-to-floor Supreme decal indicating he's in his studio. Namjoon, on the other hand, is in the conference room Seokjin recognises as number 7, the significant dent Jungkook had made by actually punching one wall on a dare being a dead giveaway. Namjoon hugs the wall, presumably to take full advantage of the stable WiFi signal this wall offers, and Seokjin notices the haphazard way his hair is sticking up on his head, possibly from pulling at it.
"Namjoon-ah, do you want to go bald," Seokjin says despite himself, "I'm sure Jungkook would love to shave it off for you."
Namjoon scowls immediately as Hoseok snorts, amused, before schooling his expression to glare at the camera. Seokjin can't help it - he beams at his best friends, his family, because he feels hopelessly fond and comfortable.
"He lives," Namjoon snarks and any goodwill Seokjin harbours for the two vanishes temporarily.
"Finally," Hoseok adds, "Sorry, hyung, no time for nice guy Hobi because what the fuck were you thinking??"
The question bursts out of Hoseok so fast, even he looks surprised at the spontaneity of it. Seokjin would wager that he'd been holding onto that since last night, a little over 24 hours ago, when Seokjin decided to dropkick basic decency out of the window.
"I wasn't?" he replies automatically, earning eerily identical incredulous looks from the two. What had Namjoon said again, that he wanted to have that freaky one-mind, two-bodies thing Jimin and Taehyung had, but with Hoseok? Because it certainly looked like they were succeeding on that front.
"Why am I even surprised," Namjoon sighs, shaking his head, and Seokjin swallows.
"I don't-" he starts, and maybe there's something in the hesitant tone of his voice for both of them to soften visibly, "I don't actually remember what happened? It's just... it was a concert, and…"
Seokjin trails off but Hoseok makes a sympathetic sound in return as Namjoon nods understanding. The lights, the sound, the gruelling set list and constant directions over the in-ear monitor - there was often so much external stimuli, they'd be overwhelmed. The only reason Seokjin even got through concert days sometimes was because he'd run through sets so often, he could do them in his sleep. It’s not that he doesn’t love performing - he absolutely does; that’s easily the one thing he misses when they’re off on their hiatuses - but aside from cute fan interactions or if any of the members did something particularly silly, Seokjin doesn’t really remember the specifics; just that feeling of exhilaration.
Hoseok pipes up in a careful voice, “So… you don’t remember anything?”
Seokjin nods, “Not clearly.”
The other two are quiet and, after some deliberation, Namjoon starts, “You want me to-”
“You kissed Yoongi, hyung,” Hoseok gets out, almost apologetic.
There’s a sinking feeling in Seokjin’s midsection, some combination of overwhelming dread and absolute regret. “Ah,”
“Yeah.”
Seokjin licks his lips, “Did anyone…?”
“No,” Namjoon supplies, “The staff came in after you’d left and it was too dark to get anything on camera. They were filming the others at that time anyway.”
“I asked Sejin-hyung if they had any footage after his set,” Hoseok adds, “There wasn’t any.”
“Nothing on SNS or the news either,” Namjoon gives a feeble smile to the camera, “So it’s just us.”
“You know that doesn’t make me feel any better, Joon-ah,” Seokjin half-jokes, but he sounds too morose for humour, “I just- I just thought about it; I didn’t realise I actually did it,”
A beat passes. There’s an awkward laugh from Namjoon, “So you think about… that often?”
Seokjin winces, “Are we really going to have this conversation now?”
“You know we have to, hyung.” Hoseok says, expression intensely serious, as he was wont to during the rigorous dance practices, ruthlessly scrutinising every single one of them and rapidly barking constructive criticism after every run-through. Seokjin feels that familiar beat of terror run through his being simply by association, “House rules, remember?”
Seokjin curses the day the rules had been made, but then it was necessary to establish law and order so as to wrangle these beasts and keep them in line. Besides, Yoongi had spearheaded the operation and Seokjin had agreed - because the kitchen and dining area was his domain and Namjoon and Taehyung were alarmingly capable of setting fire to the house - but then rising fame and repeated amendments meant that said rules started backfiring on Yoongi instead. Seokjin had gloated then; he should’ve known that karma was a fickle mistress.
He squeezes his eyes shut, dropping his phone in his lap so that he can massage away the tension headache he feels forming between his eyes. Hoseok and Namjoon seem to know to give him his space and are sitting back quietly, Hoseok fiddling with one of the ears on his beanie while Namjoon attempts to discreetly pat down the errant spikes of hair on his head.
It’s difficult to distil his emotions into a singular sentence, especially with the amount of destructive power words seem to hold.
And yet, “I wasn’t exactly trying to hide, you know. I just hoped that it was... lost in the mix.”
“It was,” Namjoon admits. Because Seokjin had always been moderately affectionate with everyone, even if he was particularly soft on Yoongi all the same. Just like Yoongi happened to be all sweet and earnest right back. The only moments of outright softness were perhaps right around their stint as roommates and Yoongi just- he just never found Seokjin’s behaviour in the privacy of their room weird or odd. Maybe because that’s just how Seokjin was when he was around Yoongi; because that’s just how he’s been for the longest time. Seokjin fully expected someone to at least call him out at some point - because, holy shit was he crying out for an intervention - but they were so busy all the time, it just never happened.
"I didn't- don't expect anything," Seokjin sighs, "So I didn't bring it up. It didn't seem relevant."
"Is this a recent thing?" Hoseok hedges, "Do you just want to fuck him and get it out of your system or-"
Seokjin startles, "What-"
"Is this a crush situation?" Namjoon cuts in, most likely bolstered by Hoseok's question, "Or are you in love with him?"
Seokjin is certain that he's blushing - the tips of his ears feel like they're on fire - and he flaps his mouth uselessly. He'd hoped to bypass this conversation entirely, because it was uncomfortable, to say the least. It's not like they haven't had this conversation about dating however, it's not like Seokjin hasn't dated around discreetly. But this was nothing like that - the dissimilarity was so stark, like day and night.
"What the hell," is what he manages to get out instead.
"This is important information!" Hoseok exclaims. Thank fuck the studio was soundproof; Seokjin would rather discard all the mirrors in his apartment than have any passing by employee listen in on this conversation.
Namjoon nods quickly, "Seokie's right; we need to know so that we can figure out an… exit strategy."
Seokjin should be used to it, his love life being reduced to a deviation in the marketing plan, a problem that needed solving, for boardroom meetings to be held over it as they discuss and formulate the necessary course of action. Obviously this was the kind of crisis which demanded the attention and scrutiny of the entire group so as to actually enforce any action, but the current situation was different.
For one, the younger ones clearly didn’t know anything - Seokjin would’ve been barraged with even more messages and at least one of them would’ve called him in tears sometime in the last 24 hours. For another, Yoongi seemed to be outright missing from this meeting. Seokjin isn’t sure if he wants to be happy about that or not, but at least it makes the situation far less painful than it should be.
And because 6 years was a long fucking time to be harboring a crush on someone you spent literally 24/365 with, he says, "More like the second, less like the first."
Hoseok doesn't even let a beat pass before posing the next question, "So, how long?"
Seokjin balks. The openly interested expression on Namjoon’s face definitely doesn’t help things.
“I’m not going to answer that.”
“Hyung, come on,” Namjoon pouted at him, “It’ll be helpful,”
“I told you,” Seokjin makes a face at the two of them, then lifts his phone from his lap to face level to ensure that they see it properly, “I wasn’t even hiding it.”
Hoseok furrows his brow in question and Namjoon looks very much like he’s mentally sorting through a parade of Seokjin’s greatest hits - including that one time when he declared that he’d like Yoongi to room with him even when they were married, that other time at Namjoon’s birthday live when he attempted to get Yoongi to eat chocolate from his mouth and yet another time when he outright stated, “Yeah, I love you,” in one interview.
Hoseok is reasonably confused, “But… you’re like that with all of us?”
“That was the point.” Seokjin shrugs, "No one was supposed to know."
"I thought-" Namjoon looks mildly gobsmacked at the declaration, “I thought you were just joking.”
Seokjin gives him a sardonic look, “You know the best lies are told with a little bit of truth in them, Namjoon-ah.”
At that, the other two pause, and Seokjin watches as they register the words. He feels awful. He hates being gloomy in front of other people - he preferred to process sadness on his own terms - and he’s never been fond of leaning on any of the others; he’s their hyung, for fuck’s sake. It’s even worse because Hoseok looks at him sadly and Seokjin knows Namjoon well enough that he can see him mentally catalouging the times when he could’ve picked up on Seokjin’s mental state.
“Oh, hyung,” Hoseok sighs sadly, his mouth making the infamous upside-down triangle of discontent.
“Come on, Hoseok-ah,” Seokjin tries on a smile even though it feels off, “Don’t look at me like that.”
Hoseok’s face drops further, “But I can’t even give you a hug like this,”
That makes Seokjin smile for real because - fuck - he really does love them all. He doesn’t know which country he saved in his previous lifetime to deserve these people.
He lifts the RJ plush beside him and waves it at the camera, "Well my son has been giving me moral support and he's doing pretty good,"
That makes Hoseok's mouth look less triangular, "Still."
"It's fine," he puts the plush down, "This is a good substitute for Hobi-hugs, so I'll live for now."
Hoseok looks satisfied enough, thankfully. Namjoon continues looking at him with a downturned mouth and huge eyes, so Seokjin says, "How's Yoongi?"
Namjoon's frown turns into a wince, "He was pretty quiet afterwards. Honestly, we were way too shocked to ask hyung if he was fine."
Hoseok grimaces, "I haven't talked to him since he shut himself in his studio yesterday. Left right after we’d finished eating. Jimin said he hadn't been back at the dorms before the younger three left for Busan this morning. His things are still in his room."
"Ah, but, Hobeom-hyung did mention that he'd sent out an intern for the 'usual supplies'." Namjoon makes air quotes around the last word, "He asked me if hyung was fine so I just bullshitted and made up something about post-concert blues."
Well, fuck. Their entire management team knew about the usual symptoms of Yoongi spiralling, categorised on a scale of 1 to 10. That Hobeom even asked but didn't push meant that the scale landed on a healthy 7, high enough to worry about, low enough to not demand immediate action. Fuck, he'd probably asked for cigarettes, which the management heavily discouraged, but Hobeom was soft enough to let them get away with it once in a while.
Seokjin has a vivid mental image of an overflowing ashtray, packs of Black Jacks and Esse Light Super Slims - as if the lower tar content made a difference; smoking was smoking - scattered on the small coffee table. Yoongi hated smoking in the studio - said it was bad for the equipment - but Seokjin could easily picture him holing himself up with cigarettes, soju and endless cups of Shin Ramyun like it was the end of the world. In a sense, it probably was.
"Shit," Seokjin cringes at the thought of Yoongi, curled up listlessly on his couch, absently letting cigarettes burn down to the filter because he's too caught up in his head, "This is why I didn't-"
"Hey now," Hoseok interrupts him, sounding imperious, "You aren't doing that, hyung."
Namjoon nods frantically, "Yeah, we'll take care of Yoongi-hyung."
"I'll try and talk to him tomorrow,"
"And, if worse comes to worst, I got the latest password from Jungkook and I'm not afraid to use it." Namjoon completes loftily.
"...okay." Seokjin says meekly because it really is out of his hands.
It's quiet for a long moment, each of them staring at their screens as there's a lull. Something passes between Namjoon and Hoseok - and Seokjin has no idea whether they've been messaging on the side or if it's just this weird telepathy thing a la Taehyung and Jimin that they're trying - and Namjoon looks almost apologetic when he speaks next.
"Ah, fuck," he scrubs a hand through his hair, causing more hair to stick up his head, "You know what we have to do in this case, yeah?"
And a stone drops in Seokjin's gut - sure the possibility had seemed remote when they'd started at the bottom, hadn't even imagined that they'd get this far, but he's tangentially had this talk with all of them separately, back when it felt like Taehyung and Jimin might just be starting something. That was a false alarm - Taehyung and Jimin had just laugh-cried themselves at the possibility, because they loved each other and regularly pushed the boundaries of platonic affection, but they weren't in love with each other. And then Jimin had pointed out that he and Hoseok outrageously flirted with each other; did that mean that they were in love with each other too?
"Nah, that just means you wanna fuck me," Hoseok had blurted to which Jimin had reasonably responded with, "Yeah, I guess."
They didn't fuck, thank God, but it was still a necessary talk to have, to formulate a contingency plan in case there happened to be intra-band hooking up. Jungkook was far too young and definitely hadn’t figured out his sexuality beyond Girls are pretty but they scare the piss out of me and took all opportunities to grope manly thighs, and they were all giggling - giggling - at how silly the idea was. Namjoon tried his best to keep a straight face for the duration of the talk, but gave up halfway, when Hoseok started pointedly questioning the legality of Jimin’s need to grind against everyone when dancing and Taehyung’s need to kiss everyone and Yoongi mused whether it meant they’d stop taking showers together because they really did need to save water and all that.
Eventually, they came to the collective decision that their careers were more important. Sure sex was nice, but there was that risk of someone developing romantic feelings and destroying the group dynamics. Besides, as much as they could admit that the rest were extremely attractive, there was zero urgency to chase that attraction to its reasonable conclusion.
Seokjin had never thought that they’d be going through this. Even when he realised that he liked Yoongi, he’d never intended for anyone to know, not until after they’d disbanded and he’d jokingly bring it up years later, preferably to lord this knowledge over them. Because- because, well, it felt kind of sad and pathetic in a way and Seokjin didn’t particularly like thinking about liking Yoongi a lot. He didn’t like daydreaming about it, didn’t like thinking about the possibilities, because their relationship was already too close; it was phenomenally easy to put actions into a romantic light, despite the sexual aspect being missing. Sure, he’d sometimes absently think about it and be internally amused and fond, but he refused to be the one to fuck things up within this group.
They had held concerts in packed out stadiums, in multiple countries, and Namjoon had spoken in front of the United Nations. They had received the Order of Cultural Merit from the President. They’d come horrendously close to disbanding altogether, in fact, but they’d gone on and had their biggest year yet. There were even talks of them co-performing at the upcoming Grammy’s. Seokjin wouldn’t - couldn’t - fuck things up at this point. And he was their fucking hyung, he was supposed to be the one responsible for keeping things in line. Fuck.
Eventually, Seokjin replies with difficulty, “I know.”
“Do you have a plan?” Hoseok asks, soft and careful.
Seokjin sighs, “I’ll probably have a talk with him when I get back. Maybe just confess and get it over with.” He takes a deep breath to brace himself, feeling bereft, “This is more important. Us.”
“Us.” Namjoon nods.
“It’s probably for the best,” Seokjin laughs humourlessly, “It wasn’t going to work out anyway.”
“I’m really sorry, hyung.” Hoseok sounds genuinely regretful.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon pipes up, “We’d say the same thing if it was anyone else outside the group.”
Oddly, it does make him feel better. None of them were seriously dating at this point after all; things were just way too hectic right now.
Hoseok snorts.
“Speak for yourself, Joonie,” he drawls, “You’re dreaming if you think I’m going to kick the real Mr Worldwide out of my bed.”
That makes Seokjin crack a smile. “Hoseok-ah,”
“It’s true!” Hoseok replies earnestly just as Namjoon says, “Pitbull will be heartbroken.”
Hoseok shrugs flippantly, “I don’t know him.”
“Heartbroken,” Namjoon emphasises with a smile before quickly sobering. “You’re gonna be fine, hyung?”
Seokjin makes a non-committal sound, “I’ll manage. Can you two make sure Yoongi is okay?”
“We will,” Namjoon says as Hoseok nods in agreement, “Do you want us to tell the rest?”
“Fuck no,” Seokjin replies quickly. Too quickly. Honestly, just the mental image of the youngest three making tragic expressions at Seokjin’s situation is enough for him. The idea of Jungkook letting him win fights because he felt bad for Seokjin was truly appalling, as was Taehyung giving him extra attentive hugs and Jimin volunteering to help him with his dance so as to shield him from Hoseok’s righteous wrath.
Namjoon nods understandably, “Okay, great. I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung won’t be confiding in the others either, so it’s just us.”
“We’ve got this,” Hoseok pumps his fist encouragingly, “Just thirteen more days, hyung.”
Seokjin is less than enthused internally, but he conjures up a smile regardless. It makes Hoseok look satisfied, so it's worth it.
"Thirteen more days," Namjoon echoes, "Jin-hyung, hwaiting,"
"Hwaiting," Seokjin replies with a little wiggle, "You two should be in bed, by the way."
“Ah,” Hoseok rubbed his head a little, “I had some ideas, so I was throwing them together.”
“Just finished up a kickoff meeting with Bang PD-nim.” Namjoon replies.
Seokjin grimaces, “For the comeback?”
“The one after the next one.” Namjoon says, a little sheepish.
“Well, shit.”
“It is what it is. We’re just floating initial ideas though; everything could change still.”
“I still don’t hear anything about bed,”
“Aish, hyung,” Hoseok wrinkles his nose at the camera.
“I’ll go pick up Hoseokie if it makes you feel better.”
Seokjin gives the camera a satisfied look and smiles primly, “It does.”
They bid each other good night and Hoseok makes Seokjin promise to call at least twice and send selcas on the group chat before blowing kisses at the screen. When Seokjin cuts the call and switches off the display of his phone, his reflection shows that he’s smiling involuntarily. Figures; he’s far too fond of them.
He gets in bed after turning off all the lights but the bedside lamp. The RJ plush proves to be a decent enough cuddle companion, although Seokjin might prefer Taehyung or Jungkook instead; they would at least distract him well enough to fall asleep. As it stands, Seokjin still feels wired, his brain mentally cataloguing their itinerary in the coming thirteen days and what he was supposed to do. Talking to his family was out of the question - but primarily because Seokjin didn’t want them making a fuss - so pretending that things were fine was the way to go.
Well fuck, Seokjin thinks, Time to put those acting lessons to use.
Romance has been romanticized to the nth degree - Seokjin should know, he's gotten enough K-drama roles which have been shelved because there's literally no time for him to branch out of music. Hell, he's sung about these floaty, fluffy ideals, but Seokjin knows that romance is hardly that straightforward.
When he realised he was in love with Yoongi, it wasn't a big dramatic, flashbulb moment - it wasn't like a revelation and it wasn't like the world was brighter, more vivid after the fact. He couldn't see the energy of the universe and understand the meaning of life. It was just that one day he wasn't and the next day he was.
It was a Thursday - and the reason why Seokjin remembered this detail particularly was because he'd remarked that he'd be excited about the weekend if he was a regular guy, but they were fucking idols, so what was the weekend anyway? The rest of them had groaned and Hoseok had asked him to stop being depressing, which Seokjin had, obviously, taken as a challenge. It's too bad that they were at a recording for some variety show and then Seokjin had chosen to pull from his repertoire of dumb gags without any prompting.
It was far from the first time that had happened - Seokjin taking the opportunity to crack a dad joke more fitting for an ahjussi than an idol - but Namjoon panicked regardless. He automatically whipped his face towards Hoseok, silently asking for help, but it was Yoongi who stepped up first and flatly asked, "Why did a man name his dogs Rolex and Citizen?"
Seokjin couldn't help himself, "I don't know, why?"
"Because they were watchdogs." Yoongi deadpanned in an impressively flat tone. He seemed completely unmoved, but Seokjin could see the mirth shining in his eyes, completely unrepentant as exasperated groans echoed around them and the host seemed momentarily confused by the derailment. Hoseok and Jimin laughed, the latter rather unwillingly as he was attempting to establish some cool guy persona, as dictated by upper management.
Seokjin though, he initially reached out to give Yoongi a high five, then discarded the idea in favour of pulling Yoongi towards him to tuck him into his side. Yoongi looked mildly surprised by the turn of events, but seemed pleased and went without any resistance, spending the first half of the interview stuck under Seokjin’s arm.
It wasn't the first time Seokjin had told a silly joke, completely unfitting to his image as an idol. Namjoon, despite whatever edgy, bad boy character they were supposed to be portraying, was terrified of rocking the boat and the rest of them were trying in their own ways to create this ideal. Sure enough, he was taken aside along with Yoongi and Namjoon practically begged them to behave, all while Hoseok stood beside him and nodded imperiously the entire time. Yoongi looked like he wanted to argue and defend Seokjin's right to tell ajaegaegeus, but he listened when Seokjin apologised and deferred to Namjoon's words.
Later, after they had retired to the dorms, Seokjin was cooking dinner with Yoongi when he suddenly felt the need to say, "You hate my jokes."
Yoongi shrugged lightly, pinkening slightly, "Doesn't mean you shouldn't get to tell them."
And something in that sudden bout of shyness Yoongi exhibited made Seokjin think, Ah.
It made so much sense, Seokjin didn't even fight the logical conclusion too much. Simply by virtue of age and, later, by disposition, Seokjin happened to be the closest to Yoongi. Part of why he and Yoongi got along so well was how weirdly compatible they seemed to be - how Yoongi appeared to be this grumpy, aloof character while Seokjin was some hyperactive individual who’d do anything to draw laughter, but their real personalities happened to be the complete opposite on the inside. It gave both of them some odd, mutual insight into each other, although Seokjin knew that Yoongi just was that ridiculously earnest and endearing. Seokjin had always been an intensely private person and didn't do vulnerable in front of other people. Doing so in front of the six people he was supposed to live and breathe with was an even greater challenge, because the mantle of hyung hovered over him.
But Yoongi- Seokjin probably came the closest to unveiling his real self in front of him.
(And, oh Jesus, he'd actually opted to write a letter of appreciation to Yoongi instead of the fans. You know, instead of doing his part and acknowledging the people who made him. Yoongi was in a terrible mental state back then, sure, but there were definitely more discreet ways to express how grateful Seokjin was for the man’s continued presence, perseverance and persistence. Definitely quieter ways to tell Yoongi that he’d support him through everything in their career. Instead, he chose the most flashy and over-the-top route, declaring his admiration in front of hundreds of people.
Seokjung's obnoxious laughter made far more sense now.)
It meant something, Seokjin realised - in an environment where most end up losing their sense of self to seeking the next adrenaline rush that they get when performing for a crowd, being grounded was important. Yoongi grounded him, saw sides of him that no one else in the group did, so of course it was going to mean a lot. It definitely didn’t help things that Yoongi was just plain impressive - with his rapping and his production skills, his sheer determination and quiet ways of looking out for everyone, the way his life had not turned out pretty, but he fought through it regardless; fought against the demons inside his head every single day. Seokjin admired his grit so fucking much and he just- he just wanted to be someone Yoongi could lean on too.
Of course, he was going to fall in love with him.
Seokjin hadn't even realised he could be attracted to boys or that he'd want to romance them, for fuck’s sake.
So Seokjin battled with it privately, but only because neither Byulyi nor Heeyeon were any help. He regretted confiding in them too, as the two would often message him for details, like Seokjin's (non-existent) love life was peak entertainment. Hyosang would just calmly say how he’d seen it coming from a mile away as Seokjin had always been weirdly soft on Yoongi. And the less that was said about Jaehwan, the better - he seemed to find his predicament thigh-slappingly hilarious and made it his mission to be as embarrassing as possible.
Point was, Seokjin desperately needed better friends. He wasn't joking when he said he had no friends - those idiots were dead to him.
So Seokjin coped by casually dating, even though Namjoon looked terrified on his behalf the entire time. Never mind that Seokjin was discreet - his partners were carefully chosen and valued their privacy - but Namjoon was paranoid nevertheless. Mind, he never threatened Seokjin or anything, just expressed concern as his friend while giving him his sad puppy eyes, a tack which was more effective as Seokjin was weak to his dongsaengs being cute and pathetic.
Still, the dates and the sex happened to be a distraction more than anything - for one, his schedule was packed to the brim and keeping his head above water was paramount; for another, he was so fucking tired, all he wanted to do at the end of the day was just collapse in bed and not have to socialise anymore.
This is why rooming with Yoongi made sense - he was not intrusive and usually retreated into himself like a particularly cute turtle, only breaking his silence to acknowledge the puns Seokjin tried out at him. It was… nice. Comforting. No expectations to fill out the quiet but the chance being offered anyway.
It definitely didn’t help things when Yoongi would just casually say things like Ah hyung, I love you or You know I like you, right? Except he would be drunk off his ass and would’ve said this to literally anyone else, which made shit worse because it’s not like Seokjin could just… stop going out to drink with him. Yoongi desperately needed it and, well, so did Seokjin, on some level. He was in love with someone he had to see every single day and had to keep himself from letting the entire world know it.
But well, he dealt with it. His feelings were manageable for the most part, but then Yoongi started sneaking around with boys and girls whenever they were abroad. Seokjin, despite being in love with him, never imagined being sexual with Yoongi because- because it felt like an alien dimension to their relationship. Never mind that Yoongi happened to be the most outwardly expressive about just how filthy his mind was and frequently alluded to how good he could give head in his raps. For some reason, Seokjin had been repressing this knowledge, till he saw Yoongi in a shaded corner of a club, willingly press himself to a wall and play tonsil hockey with some smoking hot, glittered up man with the most eye-watering shade of bright green hair.
Then, suddenly, it was everywhere. It definitely didn’t help that on-stage Yoongi did the whole lip-biting, smouldering gaze and things with his tongue which left nothing to the imagination, plus he really leaned into the whole Love Yourself aspect of things and started feeling himself. Worse was when they were in private spaces and Yoongi would lean into him, let Seokjin touch him and cuddle him totally unconsciously, so clearly comfortable he was. Thoughts of pinning Yoongi against the nearest available surface seemed to cloud his conscience, but Seokjin was an adult - he understood control. He made control his figurative bitch; Seokjin was persistent to a fault after all.
In all honesty, Seokjin should be more surprised that he'd gone on so long without actually laying his hands on Yoongi - aside from the times he made excuses to touch his face and pretend like he was just being a good hyung - it was inevitable, it had to happen some time. He'd just counted on being stronger than his desires - if Seokjin had the willpower to ignore an entire plate of freshly cooked samgyeopsal under his nose when on a diet, he could most certainly ignore Yoongi altogether.
Except… he hadn't and now he was stuck in a hotel room in Hong Kong, staring up at the ceiling painted in neons from the ambient light and trying to mentally rehearse the script he'd recite when explaining his severe lapse in judgement to Yoongi some thirteen days later.
Ignoring delicious food seemed like a breeze when compared to that.
Something had got to give, Seokjin thinks as he stomps through Champs-Élysées on his last day in Paris, currently in the midst of a tantrum thanks to Seokjung and his inability to not prod him.
The vacation went well; surprisingly well. Primarily because Seokjin was working remotely for about half of it - sending out lyrics and melodies for their next comeback, planning Run recordings, attending meetings virtually, video-calling his vocal coach for lessons, clearing out a space in his hotel room for practicing dance moves and keeping up with his workout schedule. Seokjin only really needed to play nice for his parents and he'd become really fucking good at deflecting any concerns that they might bring up regarding his mood, primarily because it was difficult to be in a bad mood when he was with them. Seokjung on the other hand, thanks to the calls from Namjoon, was deeply suspicious and nosed around, trying to find out if something was wrong.
Maybe it's because Seokjin always, always shared his more reasonable problems with his older brother. He wants to believe it's just brotherly concern, but it's more like Seokjung enjoyed getting on his nerves. There's no other explanation for why he'd just finished their little disagreement with, "Or what, you're gonna go cry about Yoongi now?"
In the wake of the pin drop silence on the table, Seokjin calmly pushed his chair back and got to his feet, leaving his napkin on his seat, then pulled out his wallet to put down an indiscriminate number of Euros on the table before walking out of the restaurant. Obviously he paused by the maitre d' first to send his compliments to the chef at 58 Tour Eiffel because he wasn't a complete asswipe, unlike Seokjung.
In the elevator down the Eiffel Tower, Seokjin typed in an explanation to his mother’s multiple question marks on KakaoTalk, saying that he’s just going to clear his head and would meet them back in the hotel, before donning on his face mask and ball cap and fishing out his faux glasses from his blazer. He realised that Sejin would definitely have words for him for walking around without security or his family, but it was almost sunset and everyone was bound to keep their distance from the sketchy-looking Asian man.
And that’s how Seokjin finds himself dodging crowds and speed walking towards Champs-Élysées, working off his frustration in the process.
It's not that Seokjin can't take his brother's bullshit - he can - but he's been extra sensitive about Yoongi after that call in Hong Kong. It's not even funny now, for one; Seokjin could appreciate how silly his feelings for Yoongi must look, especially when he regularly took every camera opportunity to be as obnoxiously over-the-top as possible. But that was when Yoongi didn't know anything, when Hoseok and Namjoon didn't either, and Seokjin hadn't been writing his speech on spare hotel writing pads and carrying around the sheets in his wallet in case he needed to add more things to apologise for.
Now- now it's distinctly not funny, it's painful and awkward and full of uncomfortable emotions Seokjin loathes.
Oh, how Seokjin loathes them.
Directions from Naver beep occasionally, with the automated Korean voice somehow still audible over the din. Seokjin blindly follows it, past the rows of restaurants and chic little outdoor cafes, utterly ignoring the delicious smells wafting out onto the street - a mean feat for him. It's a decently long walk and it’s definitely great for distracting himself from the way Seokjung’s taunt seems to be looping in his head, over and over.
Reaching Champs-Élysées doesn't take too long, not with Seokjin's brisk pace, but then once he does reach his destination, he has to face up to the reality of what he actually needed to do - buy Yoongi an apology gift. Preferably expensive enough to express just how sorry he is and ingratiate himself simultaneously.
The problem is - what the fuck do you buy for someone who has everything, including a big car, a big house and big rings?
Seokjin fidgets, tucking his hands and his phone into his pocket, ruining the line of his pants in the process. He reluctantly makes his way to the Cartier storefront and lowers his face mask to identify himself, still a little surprised when they go a little wide-eyed - he’s performed in the city before; he finds it hard to believe even now. Thankfully, they treat him in that almost-comforting blasé Parisian manner, like his status doesn’t matter. It’s probably the one thing he appreciates about the city, aside from the food.
Truth is, Seokjin isn't the shopping kind of person - he'd much rather while away his time off by playing an obscene amount of MapleStory or League online or maybe drop in for more vocal lessons or even work out. Shopping is not on the top of his list for sure - it's more of Jimin's and Hoseok's speed. In fact, the two even drag him out on their shopping excursions to act as their (mostly Hoseok’s) impulse control and stop them from buying more unnecessary things.
(Not that that helps at all, as evidenced by their respective overflowing closets. Jimin argues that Yoongi might be a more effective deterrent but, a) coaxing Yoongi to go shopping willingly was a feat in itself and b) they all knew Yoongi would buy the two of them an entire block of luxury stores if they asked him sweetly.)
Still, Seokjin sniffs around the classy-looking store, aware that he feels a touch out of his depth. As he browses through the multitude of jewelry on display, politely dismissing one woman who’d asked if he needed help, Seokjin finds his eyes being drawn to the more delicate looking rings, all platinum and diamonds and completely unlike the more industrial and obviously masculine ones Yoongi preferred. There’re obscenely priced timepieces that he likes, the dial studded with precious stones, and this one spiky pink gold choker which would look absolutely stunning on Yoongi, but Seokjin was supposed to be apologising for thinking with his dick, and this gift would mean the exact opposite.
Thankfully, his phone buzzes in his pocket, knocking him out of his stupid ideas, and he only takes the call because it’s Ahreum.
“Send me your location, Seokjin-ah,” she asks in that one specific sweetly poisonous way he’s seen her talk to people who’re rude to her loved ones.
“Noona, why,” Seokjin replies, his voice taking on an unfortunately whiny quality.
“Your stupid brother will be coming to you,” she says and something tells Seokjin that she’s staring daggers at her fiancé as she talks to him, “And he’ll be buying you something expensive to apologise for being rude.”
"Yah!" he can hear Seokjung's indignant voice in the background.
"You were ," Ahreum chides, "Don't be mean to Jinnie. Seokjin-ah, your location please. Don't make me call up Sejin-ssi."
And say what, Seokjin wants to say, all bratty, but he knows better than to be mutinous with his to-be-sister-in-law, especially since he likes to be on her good side. So he heaves a very put upon sigh and goes, "If I must."
"You must," Ahreum chirps playfully and then abruptly disconnects the call. Seokjin stares at his phone for a bit before quickly pulling up Ahreums's chat window on KakaoTalk and sharing his location. Sure enough, she sees it, sends him back a cute sticker in acknowledgement and then leaves Seokjin to hang around and peruse the rest of the store's collection.
Some fifteen minutes later, Seokjin's phone buzzes again and, when he looks outside, he can see Seokjung gesticulating wildly, completely uncaring of the people on the sidewalk.
Seokjin sighs and leaves the store, something warm coursing through him when he sees that Seokjung looks visibly relieved.
"You're an embarrassment," Seokjin says anyway, folding his arms in front of himself huffily, and Seokjung rolls his eyes in response.
"Jin-ah, at least it's just random French people," he grimaces, "Not an entire nation of fans who sometimes quote your dumbass jokes at me."
"They're funny!"
"Debatable. You're lucky I'm obligated to love you."
Seokjin arches a sceptical eyebrow at that, "Are you?"
Seokjung, to his credit, at least looks sheepish. "Can we go somewhere else? Or are you genuinely interested in robbing me blind?"
Well, just for that, Seokjin kind of wants to. But then again, buying jewelry of any kind, but especially rings, is sketchy and especially since the store staff recognises him, so he quietly leads Seokjung down the street instead, chuckling a little when he hears Seokjung's inconspicuous sigh of relief.
They walk for a bit, quiet and absorbing the bustle around one of the city's most popular avenues, and Seokjin adjusts his face mask better. It's nice, this, even though he's still a bit angry at Seokjung for his quip. He's always liked his brother's company, but it's been better since he eschewed a regular life for being an idol. Seokjung was the one always telling him to push himself further, even as their mother begged him to come home if it was too tough for him.
Seokjung inhales quickly and there's a beat of silence before, "I'm sorry."
Seokjin can't help himself, "Is it because you're actually sorry or because noona is withholding sex?"
Seokjung sputters, making a scandalized face, and that only makes Seokjin laugh. "Seokjin,"
"Just stating the facts,"
"Brat," Seokjung smacks his shoulder before sobering a little. Seokjin quiets too, although he's still smiling behind his mask, "No, no, I'm just sorry. That was a shitty thing to say."
"It was." Seokjin acknowledges, "It's okay."
"It’s not, I know that, but- but you've been off since you spoke to Namjoon that day," Seokjung says almost earnestly and Seokjin's smile drops. Not that anybody can tell. Seokjung continues, "I know that eomma and appa can't tell, but I fucking can. Ahreum can too. I know it can’t be too serious, but you sure as fuck have been acting like-"
“You said not to ruin the vacation,” Seokjin blurts, “You said-”
“And you didn’t,” Seokjung informs him, “You didn’t, I promise you. But you- you’ve really got to tell me what’s wrong, Jin-ah. Tell me so that I can help you.”
You’ll laugh at me, Seokjin almost says, all petulant and childish and feeling at least twenty years younger than he actually is. But then there’s Seokjung, looking outwardly concerned as they’ve paused under a streetlamp, the sounds of traffic and a scattered mix of French and English all around them. It’s harder than the time when Seokjin had first admitted to him how demoralising training was, harder than that time when he’d come out to him about being bisexual. This is arguably worse than the first time Seokjin had gone to Itaewon and a hookup went wrong, with Seokjin sporting a black eye after the fact, and watching Seokjung’s face flash in worry and anger was difficult, even though Yoongi had taught him how to throw a punch and Jimin had made him wear rings, so the other party didn’t look half as good as he did.
Seokjin just finds verbalising his emotions… hard. But then there’s the way Seokjung keeps looking at him, so-
“I kissed Yoongi.” he gets out in a rush. Just like that, no buildup, nothing, completely abrupt. Hearing the words being said out loud feels downright embarrassing, even as he’s rehearsed his apologies to the bathroom mirror. It’s different, letting someone outside of the group hear, letting his brother hear. Admitting it out loud is downright terrifying. Seokjung straight up gapes, eyes wide and mouth open. He doesn’t say a word, barely breathes, and the longer he goes silent, the more fidgety Seokjin feels.
Eventually, Seokjung physically shakes himself out of it, staring at Seokjin incredulously, “Are you going to elaborate at all?”
“I don’t know,” Seokjin hisses, aware that it sounds stupid. The whole situation is stupid because Seokjin is stupid, “He was coming off of the stage, then he just- he melted all sweetly and I just thought about how nice it would be to kiss him… I didn’t expect myself to actually fucking do it!”
Seokjung just blinks, his mouth dropping open like he’s going to say something before he snaps it shut. A moment later, he thinks better of it and goes, “Listen, I was mostly joking about your crush on him-”
“Well, it isn’t a joke, okay?” Seokjin snaps back, an edge of hysteria in his tone.
“I know that now, ” Seokjung adjusts the collar of his dress shirt, one which Seokjin had gifted him two birthdays ago, "So the staff definitely don’t know; they wouldn’t have let you come with us otherwise. But Namjoon does?"
“And Hoseok,” Seokjin supplies, “They were both there backstage.”
Seokjung absorbs the information, quieting as he does, before looking at him shrewdly, “...so it happened at the concert?”
“Yoongi’s set was before mine,” Seokjin tells him miserably.
“Is that why you were late in getting to the stage?”
And Seokjin does remember vaguely apologising to the backstage staff before rushing onstage for Epiphany, but he hoped it wasn’t too obvious. He just felt flushed and happy at having achieved his wish of watching Yoongi’s performance, but perhaps that’s not all what his elation was. When he shrugs in confirmation, Seokjung exhales out, his eyes falling shut as he did so.
"It wasn't calculated," Seokjin explains, his mouth getting uncomfortably tight, "I didn't want to do it. I didn't even realise I did it till I was out with eomma ."
"I don't know whether that's better or worse." Seokjung informs him, eyes still shut tight, "And how does Yoongi feel about this?"
"I- I haven't talked to him," Seokjin whispers, now feeling more miserable than ever. Shit, he really hadn't and that was unusual in itself because Yoongi and he always talked at least once when they were apart. Seokjin wasn’t joking when he said behind the cameras that he could never run out of things to say to Yoongi. Besides, Yoongi wasn't shy about confronting him and he certainly wasn't shy about calling him out on his shit - that he'd let their radio silence extend for so far meant that Yoongi was most likely freaking out.
While Hoseok and Namjoon collectively said that Yoongi had come out of hiding and was communicating with them over messages, Seokjin didn't take it as a good sign for shit. Or maybe he should, because Yoongi had messaged him so damn infrequently, he could count it on one hand. But then it was always more off-the-cuff, late night talks for him and Yoongi or fishing excursions and Yoongi was messaging normally on the group chat, even though neither of them were directly addressing each other, so Seokjin had tried not to think too much about it.
And yet, Seokjung’s innocent - and perfectly reasonable - question sent him on a tailspin.
“I haven’t talked to him,” he repeats, now looking at Seokjung in panic and Seokjung definitely hears it in his voice, for his eyes snap open. His brow furrows and Seokjin feels a soothing hand run down his arm, something that doesn’t unknot the tension in his body.
“Jin-ah, breathe,” Seokjung instructs calmly and Seokjin takes a deep breath on cue, “Come on.”
“I am breathing,” Seokjin feels the need to sass, if only because it makes Seokjung crack a smile.
“Fuck you,” he laughs and Seokjin feels some of the tension drop away as he takes steady breaths to the rhythm of Seokjung’s hand running up and down his arm. When he feels a little more like himself, Seokjung takes his hand back, “What are you going to do?”
Seokjin shrugs, “Apologise. Confess. Get rejected. Cry into bowls of ramyeon and get over it.”
Seokjung’s expression drives alarmingly close to pity before swerving and settling on mild disappointment, “Sounds rough.”
“You have no idea.” Seokjin huffs.
“I have some idea,”
“You and Ahreum-noona have been dating since the stone age though,”
“Yah!” Seokjung smacks his side in admonishment and that jolts a laugh out of Seokjin, “What’s wrong with a long-term relationship?”
“I don’t get to have one, that’s what.”
“You literally brought this on yourself though,” Seokjung points out, following Seokjin’s lead and resuming their walk, “I told you it was going to be tough, but you were too obsessed with money -”
“I buy you a restaurant and this is how you repay me,” Seokjin pouts at Seokjung, miming crying sad tears with his fingers.
“Yes, well,” Seokjung licks his lips, “All I want is for you to be happy, Seokjin-ah.”
Seokjin quiets down, his chest blooming with warmth. They weren’t particularly affectionate, Seokjung and he, not as children, anyway. But that had changed after Seokjin’s stint as a trainee, after he’d grown more comfortable with saying I love you and meaning it. Seokjin had never expected his idol dreams to be easy, had imagined there to be more conflict about lines, about being in the centre, about fighting for his place. That had never been the case in Bangtan; Seokjin thought he needed to prove himself, but it wasn’t like that at all. Somehow they got along well and worked on establishing proper communication channels. Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s - and, later, Jimin’s - undisguised affection rubbed off on everyone and Seokjin found himself responding to their declarations of love with his own sincere ones, no matter how embarrassed he felt. Seokjung looked outright confused the first time Seokjin said it to him without being prompted, but then, after Seokjin came out to him, Seokjung felt the need to validate his affection regularly, to remind Seokjin that he always had an ally in his blood brother.
“I am happy,” Seokjin admits softly, “And this… thing sucks, but it will pass.”
Seokjung nods, squeezing Seokjin’s shoulder briefly, “I know.”
Seokjin hums in response and they continue walking past the brightly-lit stores, the evenly-planted trees and the comforting chatter of the city. It’s a little depressing as he gets back to his original mission, but he’s got to pay for his sins, so, “Help me buy something for Yoongi.”
Seokjung raises a sceptical eyebrow - not that Seokjin can blame him for drawing that conclusion, so he clarifies, “I need to apologise. Have to buy him something expensive.”
Seokjung takes the explanation in stride and nods thoughtfully, “I really hope you weren’t looking for a ring at the jewelry store.” When Seokjin’s silence stretches for a beat too long, Seokjung snorts, “Shit, you’ve got it so fucking bad, Jin-ah. Seriously??”
“Namjoon bought Jimin a ring too,” Seokjin says defensively and that only makes Seokjung laugh out loud.
“I will never understand how you all work.” he shakes his head, “But Ahreum thinks it’s very cute.”
“It is,” Seokjin puffs up proudly.
“It is.” Seokjung agrees, “So, no jewelry?”
Seokjin thinks back to the pretty pink gold choker and how lovely it'd look on Yoongi and shakes his head in refusal. Sure, he was going to lay his heart bare - no need to let Yoongi know what got him hot too. “Clothes, probably.” he says, looking across the street to the Dior flagship store they’d passed a while back.
Seokjung crosses the street with him and they get into the store without issue. Seokjin keeps his face mask on for his privacy and they browse through the store, the more prominent pieces on display being more suited to Hoseok's sense of fashion than Yoongi's. Shades of dark blue and forest green happened to be about as adventurous as Yoongi's mostly monochromatic wardrobe got and Seokjin needed to find something that the man would actually wear without being under duress by the management.
It's a luxury fashion house, so finding something sufficiently indulgent while still being relatively simple-looking isn't hard - a nice navy blue sweater with the Dior logo embroidered in thread feels like it. The cashmere material is soft beyond belief while still being warm, something which would be perfect for wearing while lounging around in chilly, air-conditioned buildings. Perfect for Yoongi’s studio.
Seokjung makes the actual purchase but Seokjin pays for it with his card, and they leave after, even though Seokjung asks him if he’s sure he doesn’t want anything.
“I’m supposed to buy you something expensive,” Seokjung informs him as they step back out onto the sidewalk, “Ahreum’s orders.”
“You made me skip dinner,” Seokjin says and it’s satisfying, watching Seokjung’s expression drop to embarrassed, watching him curl into himself.
“I said I was sorry,” he mutters and looks away, almost sulky. It’s weirdly endearing, so Seokjin grabs his wrist to get his attention.
“That meant you’re supposed to be treating me to food.”
Seokjung blinks a little, then nods, “I can do that.”
Seokjin beams, mostly at the prospect of food.
There’s a little bakery off of one of the side streets that Taehyung had raved about, so Seokjin drags Seokjung there, then gets to picking out what amounts to basically the entire menu. Seokjung doesn’t complain one bit, simply nodding at each new item Seokjin points out and requests for in passable English. They spill out into the night, with Seokjin devouring pastries as they walk through the avenue to return to their rooms at Le Royal Monceau.
It’s nice and Seokjin almost - almost - misses being nothing but a pretty face, misses being a nobody. Paris lets him do this, walk through the masses as a commoner, even as their popularity expands and spills beyond the boundaries of anything they’d imagined for themselves. He feels like someone might recognise him, but the streetlamps illuminate just enough to let him hide in plain sight.
He suddenly wishes he had one of the boys with him - preferably all of them. This is supposed to be a vacation, quality time with his family, but he misses his other family; misses them like a phantom limb when he’s away from them for too long. Sure none of them give him enough time to miss them - not a day goes by without a video call from one of them - but still. He wishes he could explore Paris with them, without cameras, without schedules; just them. He knows that their Bon Voyage shoots come the closest to this and even that is a privilege - Seokjin willingly gave up any chance at a normal life in exchange for fame and fortune.
Doesn’t mean he has to like all that comes with it though.
They’re about to cross the road to get to their hotel when Seokjung suddenly grabs his wrist to pull him to a stop.
“...hyung?” Seokjin ventures, a touch hesitant with how serious Seokjung looks all of a sudden.
“Listen,” he starts, making a face before dragging his gaze up from his shoes to Seokjin’s eyes, “If you need a night away from them… after, don’t go to your apartment.” When Seokjin just blinks at him, Seokjung’s hand tightens around his wrist, almost urgent, “Don’t be alone after being rejected, Seokjin-ah. Come over to ours, you know our spare room is always open to you.”
And that makes Seokjin a little happy but mostly sad, even as he knows that Yoongi would be soft and gentle about letting him down, would be apologising more than Seokjin would. Even though Hoseok and Namjoon would give him the full post-breakup experience and Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook wouldn’t know what was going on, but would smother him with affection regardless.
“I don’t want you to be alone for that,” Seokjung repeats, “Okay?”
Seokjin smiles up at him, fond and exasperated, “I heard you. Thank you, hyung.”
That gets Seokjung to smile back and sling an arm around Seokjin, drawing him into a half-hug, “Okay.”
They resume their trek back to their hotel rooms, Ahreum looking visibly relieved when she sees Seokjin and Seokjung together. Seokjin thanks her quietly which only gets him hugged tightly, something which only grows fiercer once Seokjin relays exactly what had been plaguing him over the vacation. It’s nice, being supported, having people in his corner outside of Bangtan, and Seokjin returns to his room, having forgotten to dread the flight back and the inevitable confrontation.
For now, Seokjin is simply at ease and that feels like an achievement.
Terror returns to him like an old, familiar friend once he finds himself outside Yoongi’s Genius Lab, staring down the doormat like he's having a stand-off with it.
Their flight from Paris landed back in Seoul at 11pm and Seokjin bid his family farewell on the tarmac, hugging everyone as Hobeom stood quietly aside. Seokjung and Ahreum both reminded him to come to their place afterwards and Seokjin promised to think about it before leaving with Hobeom, certain that his luggage will make its way back to the dorms one way or another.
At his request, Hobeom had driven him back to the offices, catching Hoseok just as he was leaving the dance studios, and the unholy screech the man made drew out both Jimin and Jungkook from their respective hiding spots. In less than fifteen seconds, Seokjin was being hugged - mobbed, rather - by three sweaty bandmates, and no amount of protesting made them back off, not even the threat of throwing away the souvenirs he’d bought them.
It was Hoseok who’d shooed off the two, sternly instructed them to do their cooldown stretches, and linked arms with Seokjin, leading him to Namjoon’s studio. Namjoon fixed him with a wide, happy smile, half-hugging Seokjin once he saw him, while Taehyung, who had been assisting Namjoon, winded his arms around Seokjin’s waist and clung to him like a leech. Seokjin’s lecture on going to bed at a reasonable time felt horribly ineffectual and their attention was patronising at best, but at least it got Namjoon to start saving his work and shut down his computer.
When Hoseok gently led Taehyung away from the studio in a wholly calculated move, possibly in part with Namjoon, Namjoon just quietly regarded him for a second before closing the door behind Hoseok and leaving the two of them inside the soundproofed room. Namjoon eyed Seokjin’s hand luggage for a beat before licking his lips.
“Yoongi-hyung is in his studio,” he ventured and Seokjin jolted in place, “Are you going to…”
“I should,” Seokjin tried and failed to convince himself. It was one thing to prepare for the possibility and quite another to actually do it, “Shouldn’t I?”
“The sooner the better,” Namjoon nodded, his lips pursing into a thin line, “Do you want me to…?”
Seokjin nodded his refusal, “I want to do this on my own.”
“Okay, hyung,” Namjoon said, mouth downturned in a frown. Not that he was sad that Seokjin had rejected his offer to mediate, no, but out of concern, “But you’ll let me know if you need something? Because Yoongi-hyung sure as fuck has been as responsive as a brick wall.”
“Get Hoseok on that,” Seokjin suggested.
“Already have,” Namjoon told him, “But maybe once again tomorrow? After your talk?”
And Seokjin didn’t know what else to do but to agree to that. Which brought him to standing outside Yoongi’s studio, after Namjoon had left him there, squeezing his hand in support before leaving, giving him his privacy.
He has no idea what the security guards must see through the camera directly pointed at the entrance to the Genius Lab - Seokjin just standing there for ten minutes and making uncomfortable eye contact with the cat on the doormat flipping him off and telling him to go away. And Seokjin probably should , he ought to get over his jet lag before having this conversation for one, but he’d slept on the plane despite himself and he was wide-awake. That and the fact that the last thing Seokjin wanted, it was for him and Yoongi to be openly awkward in front of the rest of them.
He needed to get this over with, regardless of how shit his timing is.
Summoning the remnants of his non-existent courage, Seokjin knocks, rapping his knuckles on the door three times.
(Fuck, he really hopes Seokjung or Ahreum are awake by the time he’s done.)
When Yoongi - predictably - doesn’t respond, Seokjin sighs and presses the doorbell.
It’s nerve-wracking, waiting on the threshold while listening for any sounds of activity, and knowing he won’t be hearing anything from within the soundproofed room. Mentally rehearsing the speech he’d been writing for a good part of two weeks seems to be the way to go; at least that felt like he was going onstage to emcee and hype up the crowd. Not like he was going to confront his bandmate - his best friend, his ex-roommate, his partner-in-crime - about being in love with him.
Just as the thought flits through his head, Seokjin almost turns around to leave. He can’t do this, he really can’t, but before he can just chicken out and leave, the door comes unlocked.
Seokjin often wonders whether trainwrecks happen in slow motion or if it just feels like it.
It goes like this - the door comes unlocked, then opens up in increments, almost like Yoongi is manifesting onto the mortal plane in real time. Or maybe Seokjin's just being dramatic, having been deprived of Yoongi's quiet affection and gentle barbs for two weeks. And terrified, definitely terrified.
When Yoongi pulls back the door completely, his usually sleepy-looking eyes are open wide, mouth dropped down into a perfect O shape. Normally, Seokjin would've tried to poke his finger in his mouth, then dealt with Yoongi's attempts to snap at his hand like an ineffective shark, but this whole situation was far from normal. Truth is, Seokjin could just resume their relationship like nothing had happened, but he can't. House rules, sure, but also because Seokjin was a mature adult, despite barely ever acting (or feeling) like one.
"Yoongichi," he finds himself sighing, after they've both just been staring at each other for what feels like minutes on end. Yoongi startles, blinking up at him with those huge doe eyes which only come out when good food is involved, and it makes Seokjin smile. Yoongi makes him fond, makes him want to bundle him up and keep him safe. Makes him want to romance the fuck out of him, even cheesy, outwardly demonstrative shit that Seokjin loathes to do for dates - candlelight dinners, guitar serenades, boat cruises down the Han river. A boombox held over his head, playing some romantic trot song as he yelled the lyrics outside Yoongi’s apartment building - never mind that it’s both embarrassing and a candidate for a public menace charge.
Except… except Seokjin’s not allowed to, which is why he’s here.
“You- you’re back?” Yoongi says after a long moment, still watching Seokjin like he’s a spectre.
“Flight landed at Incheon at 11,” Seokjin replies, taking in the tight grip Yoongi has on the door. Seokjin swallows, meeting Yoongi’s eyes again, “Can we talk?”
Yoongi hesitates - Seokjin can glean that much in the quick glance towards the floor, then Seokjin’s bag and back to Seokjin’s face. At least that gives him some courage and levels the playing field. Yoongi being confident and in control of the situation would most likely just send Seokjin running.
And yet, Yoongi steps back and allows Seokjin into his inner sanctum.
“Thank you,” Seokjin finds himself breathing, allowing his relief to show up in his voice. Yoongi notices - of course he does - and he nods shortly before making a beeline for his swivel chair and slouching into it.
The door shuts behind Seokjin with an ominous click.
It’s awkward, or at least Seokjin feels like it with the way he just stands by the door, like he’s waiting to make his escape. Yoongi keeps watching him carefully, looking small as he drowns in an oversized sweatshirt Seokjin recognises as Namjoon’s. A quick glance around the space shows a single cigarette butt put out in the ashtray, three empty bottles of soju and one of whiskey lined up neatly next to the couch and at least a half-dozen paper cups from the coffee machine down the hall, strategically scattered around the studio. There’s no sight of the telltale, bright red Shin Ramyun cups but there is a bag of takeout on the coffee table, so Yoongi had at least eaten dinner.
Seokjin makes the short walk to the couch, settling his bag on the side table before rummaging through it. That makes Yoongi perk up and when Seokjin pulls out the beribboned white box with Dior emblazoned over the front in shiny black letters, he's looking a whole lot more interested.
"Hyung," he pipes up, his voice gravelly and reluctantly amused, "Are you bribing me? Because it looks like you're bribing me."
"That depends," Seokjin tries on a small smile, hoping that he looks pitiable enough, "Is it working?"
"I'll need to look at the box closely to tell," Yoongi says, pulling his hands out of his pockets to splay his palms in Seokjin's general direction. Seokjin thinks it’s criminal to leave Yoongi hanging like that, so he gracelessly plops the box in Yoongi’s waiting hands and sits down on the couch, a polite distance away.
Yoongi quickly dismantles the elegantly tied ribbons on the box to get to his prize, grinning happily once he’s surrounded by the tissue paper nestling the sweater Seokjin bought him. It’s his real grin, the one where he’s smiling so hard, his gums are out there, and Seokjin watches him rub his face in the soft cashmere, feeling so stupidly full of love and positive feelings.
“Thanks, hyung,” Yoongi laughs at him, hugging the sweater to his chest, “You’re forgiven.”
“Yah, Min Yoongi,” Seokjin balks half-heartedly, despite himself, “I have a speech written and everything!”
“Probably should’ve given me the speech first then,”
“Probably,” Seokjin allows, then sobers. Yoongi’s smile reduces in size, but still sits on his little mouth, something which gives Seokjin some courage, “I wanted to say I’m sorry about doing… that.”
Yoongi’s smile drops entirely, taking Seokjin’s heart with it.
“That. ” Yoongi echoes flatly.
There’s a beat, where Seokjin blanks on his speech completely, something reminiscent of stage fright setting in right before he had to go on stage and perform his monologues for his acting teachers at university. But then he breathes, ignores his cold hands and feet, starts with the first line he remembers composing, and it comes back to him naturally.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he starts, holding eye contact with Yoongi and trying to project sincerity, “I didn’t mean to- to kiss you without your consent and especially not at a concert. It was a heat of the moment thing, but I don't want to make any excuses because I-" Seokjin's breath stutters here and he's even more scared about being honest. Honesty is fucking terrifying, but he pushes through it because he’d promised to maintain peace within their motley crew, "I have been thinking about doing that for a long time now."
"You've been thinking about that?" Yoongi questions, the words a bare whisper as he tugs the sweater closer to himself almost protectively. Seokjin hates that he knows what trepidation looks like on Yoongi - he's held his clammy hands under the table during those nerve-wracking post-debut meetings with the board - and he hates it more since he's the cause for it.
Still, Seokjin steels himself and fakes composure, but his voice cracks at the beginning of the sentence, "Because I-"
Yoongi's expression grows more alarmed, "Hyung?"
Seokjin forces his mouth to make the words, aware that his ears feel like they’re burning, "Because I'm in love with you."
Silence. There's the hum of the air conditioner, the whirring of Yoongi's computers and equipment, and the sound of harsh breathing which Seokjin later realises is coming from him. He had expected it to go something like this, but he'd also thought that he wouldn't have to look Yoongi in the face the next day and pretend to be okay.
Yoongi sits as still as a statue, eyes just fractionally wider than before, watching Seokjin unblinkingly. The lack of a reaction is more disconcerting than anything and Seokjin finds himself filling the quiet, "I want to make you happy, give you a place to rest, because your happiness makes me happy. I want to take you out on dates and hold your hand in public. I want you to meet my parents and let everyone know about us, even risk the paparazzi knowing, even the fans. Even risk getting torn apart by the media and the internet.” His breath catches in his throat, hitching over something which could be a scream or a sob, “If you'll- if you’ll have me, then nothing else matters."
Seokjin is aware that it comes across as far too intense, but it is what has been brewing within him for years now. Yoongi looks even more confused as he blinks, a furrow forming between his brows and he opens his mouth to take a quick inhale, like he's about to say something, when Seokjin cuts him off to speak over him. Because, no, no amount of mental training has prepared him for Yoongi actually rejecting him.
"But I know that's not something you want." Seokjin says frantically, "And I don't expect a response from you, Yoongi-yah. It's just that… Bangtan is more important right now, isn’t it?”
Yoongi nods lightly, still sceptical, the furrows in his brow deepening, nose scrunched. But at least they’re in agreement about that, so Seokjin finds himself smiling, aware that it feels deeply uncomfortable on his lips.
“And I can't fuck that up for anyone, least of all you. So, yeah, I'm sorry for putting you in a corner like that.” Yoongi’s expression is blank by the time the sentence is finished and because Seokjin has all but lost his filter, he adds, “Not sorry for loving you, though. Never that."
There’s a beat and Seokjin wants to curl up in embarrassment then die, because he’d not meant to say that. Yoongi just blinks at him, lost, and Seokjin can relate - this person who makes spontaneous confessions like that? That’s definitely not who someone Seokjin knows either.
Quietly, Yoongi repeats, "Not sorry?"
Seokjin melts at the sweet tone of Yoongi’s voice, with just an edge of wonder there. He has a distinct urge to cup Yoongi's cheek and coo at him, but he's stronger than that. He simply smiles softly, "Of course not. You deserve to be loved, Yoongi-yah, fiercely and wholeheartedly."
Yoongi breaks eye contact, ducking his head and scratching the back of one ear as he was wont to do when he was feeling shy. It's so cute and Seokjin might just have drawn closer and whispered sweet praises to fluster Yoongi further, disguising his flirting with plain fondness, but he'd literally just confessed and promised to get over himself and he wouldn't be making a very strong case for himself by doing that.
Seokjin clears his throat, suddenly a lot more eager to make himself scarce. Even Seokjin has a limit to how much he can embarrass himself and the fact that he’s suffering from a case of honesty is enough reason for him to leave. The motion draws Yoongi's attention and he looks back up at Seokjin, cautious.
"So, yeah." Seokjin finds himself saying, now unable to look at Yoongi's expression; focusing on his knees seems to be preferable, "That's all I wanted to say. I’m working on it. I know it might be weird for a bit, but let's just get along well for the boys, okay?"
Yoongi doesn't respond and that's just as well; Seokjin had only managed to get out about 10% of his speech after all. The rest of it had vaporised in the face of Yoongi's obvious discomfort and Seokjin's terminal shame. So Seokjin reaches for his bag and gets to his feet, trying not to feel horribly aware of the awkward silence. Awkward silences were rare between the two of them - almost non-existent even - and Seokjin had no idea how to navigate this one.
Still, "I think I'll return to the dorm then. Come home soon, okay, Yoongi-yah? Don't overwork yourself."
With that, he smartly turns to the exit, pressing the button to open the locked door and he quickly walks down the hallway and to the elevators, trying to put as much distance between the studio and himself. Breathing is difficult, his heart is going like he’d done thirty straight minutes of intense cardio, and he’s aware that he’s feeling far too much. He's about to call one of the junior managers to arrange for a car home when he's met by Hoseok, the man lounging by the elevators, obviously waiting for him. Hoseok gives him a small smile, as if checking the waters, before going serious once he reads Seokjin's face.
Seokjin doesn't even realise he’s trembling till Hoseok gathers him up in a hug, a gentle hand working up and down his spine to soothe him.
"I'm so sorry, hyung," he murmurs, sounding obviously put out, and Seokjin feels shitty already - vulnerability was fucking awful.
"Fuck," is all he can muster up in response and Hoseok just sighs sadly, tightening his hold.
"Let's go home?" he asks softly, "I called us a car,"
Seokjin nods and Hoseok unwinds himself from the embrace to press the call button for the elevators, taking them down to the basement parking, where their car will be waiting.
Hoseok shields him against further human interaction, somehow summoning enough perky energy to make Seokjin appear almost like window dressing, and they fall into the backseat, with one manager driving and a security guard sitting shotgun. The drive down to the dorms is quiet, with Seokjin leaning his forehead against the glass and listening to the sounds of Seoul. Hoseok loosely threads his fingers through Seokjin's for the duration of the ride and Seokjin is grateful, especially since Hoseok doesn't feel the need to fill the silence; just offers quiet support.
When they reach their building, Seokjin robotically thanks the staff for driving them home and Hoseok finally lets go of him to step outside of the car. The walk through the lobby and ride up the elevator are quiet, absent even of the usual Hoseok-noises, and Hoseok periodically brushes the back of his hand with Seokjin’s, as if confirming that he's still here.
Several floors and seven digits of a passcode later, Seokjin finally finds himself in their entryway and lining up their outdoor shoes. Stray shoes scattered everywhere but the shoe rack is a thing of the past, even as Hoseok turns his head around for a cursory glance. Mostly because with the combined powers of himself and Jimin, he's managed to break everyone of the habit. Seokjin smiles a little; he’s missed this.
Going deeper into the house finds Namjoon settled into one corner of their couch, leafing through a book in the lamplight, something which is definitely going to be bad for his eyes, but Seokjin doesn’t have it in him to nag. Neither, it turns out, does Hoseok, for he just looks at Namjoon and Namjoon looks back from above the rim of his glasses. Something passes between them, a few lines of a conversation conveyed through body language alone, and Seokjin thinks it’s kind of sweet but mostly really fucking weird.
“This is weird,” he says out loud, motioning between the two, “And rude. I feel left out.”
“I’ll ignore this because you just got dumped,” Namjoon replies, without missing a beat. Hoseok smacks Namjoon’s shoulder in admonishment a little too hard, earning a sad sound and betrayed eyes from Namjoon. Namjoon rubs his hurt shoulder and looks up at Seokjin, “But we love and appreciate you all the same, hyung.”
“Very much,” Hoseok nods, sparing Namjoon a thumbs up and leaning his side into Seokjin’s and affectionately knocking their shoulders together, “We’re so proud of you.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin sighs, low and rattly and fond, “Okay.”
Another hug from Hoseok and conciliatory pats on the thigh from Namjoon and Seokjin leaves their midst to retire to his room. Seeing his suitcases neatly lined up by the table only emphasises just how fast all of it had gone down. It’s barely 1am and he feels wired, on edge and distressingly alert. The last thing he wants to do is unpack his belongings and arrange it all in his cavernous closet - especially since he has to fly out to Finland in a few more days anyway. This feels more like a night to drink and get wasted, then maybe cry over the stove as he cooks the hunk of Hanwoo beef in their fridge to console himself.
Seokjin mentally slams the door on that particular fantasy and instead begins pulling out his trusty RJ pyjamas and the multiple travel pouches with his skincare products and toothbrush, intent on distracting himself with his usual bedtime routine. A face as perfect as his wasn’t entirely genetic - Seokjin worked hard to look this good. And routines are therapeutic, oddly grounding; his body going through the motions even as the rest of Seokjin’s mind gets pulled into a vortex made from shame and regret.
Well - regret is not accurate; Seokjin didn’t regret falling in love with Yoongi and neither did he regret confessing to him. Maybe- maybe the kissing business was a bit regretful, but only because it wasn’t consented to prior. And he definitely didn’t regret closing the door on a potential relationship entirely because- because Bangtan, his career, is the most important thing in his life right now.
Saying that he loves the other boys seems utterly inadequate to express the magnitude of emotion he felt. Not for the first time, he realises that he'd do anything for them, even crush his own fledgling heart as it tries on a serious romance for the first time. The truth of it is, they've built something out of the forced proximity and humiliating trust exercises masquerading as variety show shenanigans, something more substantial and enduring. It could’ve just as easily ended in resentment and anger, if there was just that one person who was intent on being an asshole, but Seokjin had seen through enough potential team members trying to capture the places that Taehyung and Jimin eventually took up to know that what the seven of them had was special.
Seokjin used to simply drift through life, letting his face do his work for him and going along with the flow, taking the path of least resistance. That all didn’t change when he was recruited, but it definitely shifted the moment he’d been inducted into the group and he’d met the boys. Then, it was just an exercise in playing catch up with the rest. Hell, Jungkook seemed far more impressive than Seokjin’s visual and passable singing, despite him being a thirteen year old who still cried from homesickness, leading Hoseok and Seokjin to trade cuddling duties.
The rest of them made Seokjin want to try, want to give in his best and match the team’s efforts. It made him want to keep them all together, even if it was at the expense of Seokjin’s dignity. In his more inebriated moments, Taehyung often slurred at him about how impressive Seokjin’s acting was, but Seokjin knew that he wouldn’t have touched such heights alone; he wouldn’t have been motivated enough to push himself.
So boxing up his emotions and shoving them at the back of his mental closet was the only course of action that made sense - because fucking up the group dynamics was not conducive to their long-term goals. He was doing it for the six people who made him, for his crowning achievement in the game of life, his magnum opus. It wasn't just a career - it was his everything. His feelings seemed horridly silly when compared to the sheer gravity of that.
And yet, as he pats on moisturiser to lock in all the serums and essences he'd just slathered on, Seokjin fights to keep his face neutral. As much as he’d love to not be a living, breathing human who felt emotions, he was one and the current situation was incomparable to the other times he’s been denied a relationship. For one, Yoongi isn’t just a pretty face with whom Seokjin has some passable sexual chemistry, one which masquerades as the ephemeral ‘connection’. For another, those were laughably easy to get over, forgotten the moment Seokjin manages to nail a choreography the first time or is complimented for his vocals or if he just jokes around with the rest.
Yoongi isn’t easy to get over; Seokjin knows that in his bones. He’d silently ignored it because he knew Min Yoongi was going to ruin him. Perhaps it really was time to look reality in the face.
Seokjin takes deep breaths to compose himself before capping the last of his products and, after a brief assessment in the mirror, he leaves the bathroom. As he readies for bed, he realises that the room is too big, too silent. He can picture himself laying awake all night, tossing and turning as his thoughts run marathons inside his head, and then being less than presentable tomorrow. He can see himself looking miserable and caught up in his own head and distinctly unlike the put-together, supremely confident person Jin from Bangtan Sonyeondeon is.
Just the idea of elaborating on his sadness, of having to face Yoongi without being perfectly collected, makes him want to shrivel up and die.
So Seokjin shoots off a quick message to Seokjung and Ahreum, politely dismissing their invitation, then sets his phone down on his side table, before dragging himself out of his room and towards Jungkook’s. The door to Jungkook’s room is ajar and the pitch darkness with the humidifier and air purifier turned off indicates that he isn’t in. Taehyung is the next best bet and, sure enough, when Seokjin knocks lightly on his door and steps in after an incoherent grunt welcomes him in, Taehyung and Jungkook are lying on Taehyung’s bed, huddled up in the centre, and the lamplight shows them patting each other’s head sleepily in some cute, pre-bedtime grooming ritual.
When they notice him, Taehyung smiles sleepily at him and Jungkook pouts in confusion, still putting together the reason why Taehyung’s fingers in his hair have stilled.
“Hyung,” Taehyung croaks, now rubbing behind Jungkook’s ear.
“Jin-hyung,” Jungkook mumbles sweetly once he turns his head to look over and, shit, this makes him feel a bit better about his decision already - like a band-aid on a gaping wound, at least it’s a start.
Seokjin addresses the bedspread, feeling overwhelmingly childish in the face of the two youngest to even look them in the face for this, “Can I sleep here?”
There’s a delighted sound from Jungkook and, when Seokjin peeks up to look, Taehyung seems more awake, his lips lifting in his brightest smile. Seokjin takes that as a good sign and gets out of his house slippers, kneeling on the bed shyly. Before he can decide where to go, the two detach from one another, wriggling away to the sides and making space for him right in the middle.
There's a beat with the two giving him near identical expectant looks, something that's only honed through years and years of being partners in crime, and Seokjin gives - he crawls into the space left for him and lays down. It doesn't take long for Taehyung to manipulate him, pulling him to turn to his side, and once Jungkook catches on, he does his part by pushing at one shoulder and sending Seokjin crashing into Taehyung with a soft thud.
"Yah," Seokjin starts, but then there's Jungkook lethargically wrestling with the covers and Taehyung sliding down the bed till his head is comfortably snuggled into Seokjin's neck, and the protest is lost for good.
Thirty seconds of squirming and adjusting and making themselves comfortable, Seokjin finds himself being used as a glorified body pillow - Taehyung's arm thrown over his waist as his hair tickles the underside of Seokjin's chin and Jungkook's arm thrown over Taehyung's with his legs tangled with Seokjin's and face nuzzling the space between Seokjin's shoulder blades. It's weird, especially after having two straight weeks of no one crawling into his bed at 2am with some flimsy excuse, but Seokjin feels impossibly warm. And it's not the body heat talking - the ambient temperature of the room sits at a chilly 18°C. He's just fond, despite his chest feeling like it has a persistently growing hole in it.
"Missed you, hyungie," Taehyung sighs, low and deep, and Seokjin can hear the warmth in it. He just hums in acknowledgement; his throat feels choked up and he's pretty sure his voice will break if he speaks. If he can even speak.
"Missed you," Jungkook echoes, voice heavy and crackly with sleep, sounding like it's taking him way too much effort to speak, but he's trying anyway. "It's weird when one of us is missing."
Seokjin feels Taehyung nod, "Weird."
"Weird," Jungkook repeats and he burrows further into Seokjin's back, like he's trying to climb inside of him. Or maybe he's just cold, maybe that. There's a smile in his voice when he slurs, "Welcome home, Jin-hyung."
There's a moment where Seokjin is absorbing the heat from Taehyung's and Jungkook's bodies, the two ensconcing him like the world's most wriggly blanket, absorbing the words Jungkook just exhaled into the room, and then there's a lump in his throat. Don't cry, he thinks, because crying was delegated to bathroom stalls and in his personal spaces; not in the presence of other people and especially not in the presence of the younger ones, unless it was him weeping onstage about unexpectedly winning a Daesang or about them talking about disbanding. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, he repeats like a mantra, over and over.
It’s interrupted when Taehyung’s door swings open noiselessly and a figure steps into the room, making a soft sound of surprise.
“Jin-hyung?” Jimin sounds a lot more awake than the other two parties in the room and he walks over to Taehyung’s side of the bed to peer into whatever mishmashed human jigsaw they’re making up. He smiles sweetly, “Are you joining us today?”
“If you don’t mind,” Seokjin finds himself saying, his voice thankfully even.
Jimin laughs, happy and fond, “Why would I mind? The more the better,”
Jungkook makes an agreeable hum and Taehyung nods at him. Jimin climbs over Taehyung and, with some minimal protesting, he manages to wedge himself between Taehyung and Seokjin, his head buried in Seokjin’s chest and hand somehow tangled in Jungkook’s hair. At Taehyung’s whine - because Jungkook’s too far away from him now - Jungkook joins his fingers with Taehyung’s over Seokjin’s waist and Taehyung makes a satisfied noise before snuggling in comfortably into Seokjin’s nape.
“Missed you, hyung,” Jimin informs him sweetly, after they’ve been quietly laying for minutes, earning approving grunts from Taehyung and Jungkook.
“Already said that,” Jungkook tells them regardless.
“Say something new,” Taehyung adds, making a tiny oof when Jimin, presumably, elbows him.
“How was the vacation,” Jimin asks, looking up at Seokjin with a smile, “Did you miss us?”
“Did you let me miss you?” Seokjin replies, glad when his voice doesn’t waver at all, when he sounds like himself.
Jimin just laughs at the observation, “Can’t have you having fun without us, hyung.”
“Yah, I was literally working the entire time! Am I not allowed to have a life -”
“Bangtan Sonyeondan is a lifetime membership,” Taehyung informs him sagely.
“Does it come with a lifetime subscription of receiving video calls from you at 3am?”
“Well, obviously. And it was urgent,” Taehyung cries, “Joonie-hyung was trying to pirouette when he was four soju bombs deep.”
“His balance was fucked,” Jungkook says gleefully, or as gleeful he can sound when half asleep, “I love him.”
“We know, baby,” Jimin replies, so thoroughly patronising, Jungkook makes a complaining noise. Jimin turns to Seokjin, “But we should do something together. Tomorrow.”
“To make it fair?” Taehyung asks, now a lot more awake but his voice is still subdued.
“Yes,” Jungkook hisses and something about the way he verbalises that makes Seokjin think that if he had the energy, Jungkook would be pumping his fist.
“I’m thinking beach,” Jimin says in English.
“Bitch,” Taehyung whispers softly, also in English, giggling to himself at the homonym like it’s the funniest thing.
“Beach,” Jimin emphasises and switches back to Korean, “We can drive down to Eulwangri and make a day of it. Buy snacks and drinks at 7-11 and take blankets, sunscreen,”
“Volleyballs!” Jungkook says enthusiastically.
“Tannie would love a good beach day,” Taehyung sighs.
“Do I get to refuse?” Seokjin interjects, and Jimin only giggles.
“Absolutely not,” he answers and the three begin planning in earnest, leaving Seokjin to passively listen to their mental image of a perfect beach day. It’s not like they don’t know that tomorrow - technically today - is packed to the brim; their schedules are insane as is. There is a meeting they have to attend with Bang PD in about seven hours, then Seokjin has to attend vocal lessons, spend a few hours with Hoseok getting a crash course in the choreography for their upcoming comeback, and whatever hours are left, he’ll be in Namjoon’s studio, recording a guide. That’s not even counting the hour he’ll spend packing for their flight to Finland to shoot for the Winter Package.
The quaint little daydream is still appreciated, cherished even. Being the fulcrum of the discussion, the entire plan, is not something Seokjin is at home with; he still feels weirdly shy about it, feels stupidly emotional about the regard the boys - his boys - give him and it’s made significantly worse when Jungkook starts humming sleepily, singing I miss you to the tune of Spring Day. And then there’s Taehyung joining him to croon into Seokjin’s skin like he’s serenading him, asking And how many sleepless nights do I have to spend to see you? Jimin is just laughing at the two, pressing his smile into Seokjin’s chest and it’s-
It’s a lot. Seokjin’s been on a rollercoaster ever since he was woken up on the plane to prepare for landing in Seoul, then been on edge till he spoke to Yoongi, after which he was just in shock, still processing what had just happened in the studio. He’s still trying to, in fact, because Yoongi’s expression - eyes wide and face stony, clutching onto Seokjin’s gift protectively - is burned in his brain. He’d made Yoongi look like that, all pained and scared and small, because Seokjin had fucked up.
Jimin sings up at him - I say that I’ll erase you, but I can’t let you go yet - and Seokjin didn’t even realise they’d continued with the song, albeit while giggling too much to give this gut-wrenching piece the weight it deserves.
Don’t cry, Seokjin thinks futilely, so surrounded by love even as pieces of his broken heart sit on the floor of Yoongi’s studio.
It starts in his chest, building up till it crawls up his throat and there’s a rattly intake of breath, eyes burning, and Seokjin doesn’t even realise that he’s started crying till Jimin coos at him.
“Aish, hyung,” Jimin sighs, his hand swiping over Seokjin’s cheeks to catch his tears, “Was our singing that nice?”
Shut up, is what Seokjin wants to say, but he fucking hiccups instead, squeezing his eyes shut, because he didn’t cry in front of the younger ones, didn’t cry in front of anyone. He's the oldest, even if his attitude is sometimes indistinguishable from Jungkook's, but he made it count for the important things. Seokjin hates being vulnerable and he'd ideally be making a joke right about now, deflecting attention, but he can barely breathe much rather speak.
Taehyung sits up a little, Seokjin feels more than sees it, and then there's a soft discontented sound before Taehyung's lips kiss the corner of his eye affectionately.
"Don't cry hyung," he says sweetly, nuzzling into his cheek, disregarding the tears entirely, so obviously Seokjin takes it as his cue to cry harder.
Jungkook sits up too and tucks his face into the back of Seokjin’s neck, his hand rubbing soothing circles between Seokjin’s shoulder blades. That’s more devastating than Taehyung breathing endearments at him or Jimin softly petting his hair because- because Seokjin used to do that for him when they were younger and Jungkook used to get homesick and this seemed to be the only way to get him to quiet down. Seokjin never imagined that a day would come when Jungkook - their baby - would be the one trying to comfort him.
“We love you, hyung,” Jungkook says quietly, earning assenting hums from the other two.
Seokjin can’t help it if more fat tears squeeze their way through - they don’t know the first thing about the last two weeks, about Seokjin being wound tight and pretending to be okay, about him constantly doing a mental recitation of the apology he was supposed to make and failing at it at the end of the day. They don’t know about the blank look Yoongi wore, watching Seokjin like he didn’t know who he was. And yet - and yet - they’re willing to offer him this love and comfort unconditionally; how is Seokjin supposed to regret breaking his own heart then?
“I-” his chest heaves when he tries to speak, when he tries to get words past his spasming throat, “I missed this so much,”
“Aw, hyung,” Taehyung sighs. And although Seokjin can’t look at him, he can still discern the smile in his voice.
“I love you all,” Seokjin whispers, biting down on his lips to control the sobs and failing. He makes an ineffectual attempt at wiping his eyes, but Jimin gets to him with a tissue first. Jungkook rubs his nose in his nape and Taehyung takes over Jimin’s head patting duties. Seokjin feels overwhelmed and too, too honest, “I’d do anything for you all, you know that, right?”
It’s one thing to think it and quite another to say it, but Seokjin means it all the same; fiercely at that.
“Oh, hyung,” Jimin sighs, delicately wiping down more tears, “We know you would.”
“We’d do the same,” Jungkook affirms.
“It’s in the Bangtan membership contract,” Taehyung adds solemnly and that makes Seokjin exhale a hysterical laugh.
They’re quiet after that, the loudest sound in the room being Seokjin’s sniffles, and all Seokjin is aware of is the various affectionate gestures being extended to him - Jungkook still rubbing comforting circles on his back as he lightly hums an aimless melody, Taehyung gently carding his fingers through his hair and Jimin having left the bed entirely, only to return with more tissues and a bottle of water for Seokjin to drink out of. He feels the exhaustion hitting him quickly, even if a few stray tears continue leaking, and by the time Jimin’s head has returned to its place on Seokjin’s chest, Seokjin feels a lot more ready to fall asleep.
The way Jungkook yawns behind him and gropes his way to holding Taehyung’s hand means he is too.
“Let’s sleep, okay?” Jimin reaches up to pat Seokjin’s cheek, “Have to get up early if we want to make it to the beach.”
“Bitch,” Taehyung hisses sleepily and Jimin shoves him in response, except he’s fairly tired too, so Taehyung barely budges.
Despite his tiredness, Seokjin is the last to fall asleep, watching the neon digits on the air conditioning unit as he absently plays with Taehyung’s hair. Jungkook is the first to drop off, his breathing even out, and then Taehyung lethargically cuddles in before passing out. Jimin’s hand, which had been soothingly rubbing Seokjin’s side, slows down, then eventually comes to a complete stop, indicating he’d fallen asleep too.
In a few hours, Seokjin would get up and resume where he’d left everything off at - before the stupid kiss, before the vacation, before everything went to shit. But, with the witching hour closing in, the quiet sounds of the three slumbering, Seokjin takes a moment for himself, to properly mourn what used to be. His love will persist, he knows that much - how is one supposed to get over Min Yoongi anyway? - but it’ll be less like a quiet inside joke with himself and more like an embarrassment exposed for all eyes to see.
But maybe it’s for the best that it came to this.
At least that’s what he tries to tell himself as he feels more tears slip past his closed lids before he, too, is dragged down into a dreamless sleep.